A Phantom's Claim
by Paula Nicole
Summary: The Phantom has returned to claim what he believes is rightfully his. He steals Christine at night and whisks her away to a secluded cabin where they are surrounded by forest and there is barely another person for miles around. Erik reveals to Christine that he has set out to do exactly what he failed to do nights before . He wants to claim her as his wife.
1. Chapter 1

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter One**

Still lost in her fairy-tale ending Christine pulled the long heavy red drapes over the window which exposed the darkness of the night. Now the only light source was that of the candle by her bedside and yet Christine was not afraid, not any more.

Christine's nightmare was over, and now her dreams could begin. It had been two days since The Phantom of the Opera had let her go from his possessive grip and now Christine was in the care of Raoul in his great mansion house. Their wedding plans were made and set. Tomorrow they would be wed and at last Christine could move on from her dreadful affair with the Opera Ghost. She had read in the papers the Opera Populaire was no more. The managers had fled with the money they had made and the cast of the opera were already looking for a new homes. Lucky for Christine her home was now with Raoul.

Raoul had already retired to his bed in another room of the grand house hours ago but despite being so enveloped in her new world Christine could not sleep. She returned to her bed and laid her fragile body down on top of the silky pink fabrics. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly shut.

If the nightmare was over, why did her heart still quake with fear? Why couldn't she escape into her dream world?

The house was completely silent most of the time but at night Christine could hear its old wood creak as the air around it cooled. There was never any music in the house, no unless she made it. And from time to time Christine found herself missing the busy and musical life she lived at the Opera Populaire. But Christine was happy, or so she told herself when a part of her started to yearn for something more. But yearning for what? What was that _something_ that was missing?

This was Christine's happy ending. Book closed.

After all those hours of torture Christine slipped into her dream world at last and found peace in them. Here she could be free from all those who would bid to hurt her. Here angels soared and the Opera Popularie was still full of beauty and music. Anything was possible in dreams.

However Christine was completely innocent to the presence that had joined her in the room. The dark shadow slid across the floor, undetected by all in the house. The shadow paused by Christine's bed and peered over her, casting its own murky shadow across her pale soft skin, caressing her with its darkness.

Erik's cold grey eyes blazed. They grazed the body of the sleeping angel, taking in the beauty of her womanly curves under the white nightdress and lacy undergarments. How Erik longed to see the flesh underneath her fine skirts and undergarments. He desired to rip her corset from her and finally feel the weight of her soft breasts in his strong hands. How he ached for his Christine. _His Christine._

Before Erik could lose himself in the swell of desire he gently slipped his hands then arms under Christine's light sleeping body. She was like a rag doll in his arms as he lifted her and then carried her from the fortress of her bed. Erik smiled to himself arrogantly. He was going to steal his bride away right under the Vicomte's perfectly sculpted nose. He moved with stealth through the Vicomte's home and then silently out of the open window on the bottom floor. Erik had paid off a servant to leave it open for the night.

With his young bride defenceless in his powerful arms Erik carried her off into the night and into a carriage that he had waiting for them. He gently placed Christine inside and laid her down on the plush red seats. She groaned quietly and reached out her hand, feeling about as if looking for her blanket. Gently Erik wrapped her in his long black cape and he closed her inside the carriage, quickly locking it with the latch on the outside.

"Sweet dreams, my Christine," he cooed.

Covered by darkness Erik drove the carriage from the Vicomte's home and down the dark cobbled streets, passing the ruins of the opera house he had once haunted as the Opera Ghost. Erik smiled darkly, remembering when he first heard Christine's voice. He knew then had had to have her then; he had never ached for a woman with his heart, soul and body ever before. He had to claim her as his.

Christine woke to new surroundings. Her eyes grew with terror and her heart pounded in frustration. She quickly sat up and saw she was encased in a very familiar black cape. It was almost as if Christine had forgotten how to breathe. She just couldn't believe this was really happening. After all she had thought Erik was dead.

As she became more aware she realised that not only was she in a carriage, but this carriage was moving quickly and light was trickling in the small gap between the little black curtains that covered the window. How long had they been on the move? Where were they going? Many questions buzzed through Christine's mind but there was only one word on her pale pink lips.

"Erik…" she whispered.

* * *

Finally the carriage drew to a halt and Christine could feel some movement up above. Her heart began to leap as she listened for him but there was no more noise. And then she saw him, just a glimpse through the two curtains. Christine cringed as the latch on the carriage door slid across and before she could do anything the door was thrown open to reveal her captor.

Erik looked in at the horror stricken Christine and grinned with a menacing sort of satisfaction. He knew she was surprised to see him, after all rumours were spreading like the Opera Populaire's fire that the Opera Ghost was dead. But Erik was very much alive.

"Good morning, my dearest," he said in a mocking tone. "Have we had a pleasant journey?"

Christine did not dare to answer; she knew her voice would quiver and fail her. But Erik could see the fear in her big blue eyes and he savoured it like fine wine.

Suddenly he reached into the carriage, offering Christine his pale hand. But Christine shied away and made a quiet whimper just like a scared child.

"Oh come now," Erik chuckled smugly. "It would be so rude of me not to offer my_ bride_ my hand to help her from our carriage."

Erik loved the affect the word "bride" had on her. Christine's eyes widened to twice their size and her pale cheeks began to burn a bright red. He offered her his hand once more but this time when she refused him he reached out to grab her.

Christine swiftly moved out of the way and threw herself towards the door, hoping to knock over Erik or just push by him. But her escape plan failed miserably. Erik simply grabbed his cape that was falling off her and threw it over her head. He then swiftly moved in and wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her up against his hard body but he was careful not to lose his mask in the scramble.

"Now that is no way to behave for you groom, my dear," Erik hissed angrily into her covered ear. "And if you make another escape attempt then I will punish you for it, wedding day or no wedding day."

Erik could feel Christine shudder in his arms. He was sure he would have no more trouble from then on.

Suddenly he lifted her over his back, with very little effort, and with his bride still shrouded in his cape he continued on towards their destination.

Erik had bought a very secluded cabin in the woods and had filled it with the luxuries he knew Christine would enjoy such as plush bed, sofas, a bath and a closet full of the finest dresses he could buy. The cabin was a good distance from any city or even town. The nearest place was a little village made up of very little. Erik was quite sure they would have no trouble from the village or anyone who sought them as the cabin was well hidden. Erik had arranged all of this for his Christine the day she had left his side. But now his plan was complete and as he carried his bride into their new home he promised himself his Christine would be by his side forever.

Christine finally cried out when she felt the pounding of Erik's feet on the stairs of the house. Even though she was shrouded she had a feeling of where he was taking her and it was the last place she wanted to be with Erik.

Erik carried his bride into their bedroom and gently placed her down onto the bed. He suddenly ripped away the cape from her and grabbed Christine's thin wrists. Before she could react he was swiftly binding them together with strong rope. Erik really had thought everything through.

He pulled back to admire his work and then roughly pushed her head down onto the plump feather pillow. Christine jolted with surprise but Erik held her in place as he tied her bare ankles together too.

"You are mad Erik!" Christine cried. "Whatever makes you think you'll get away with this? Didn't you think that Raoul would come looking for me?"

"You have driven me to madness Christine," Erik quickly retorted as he put on his cape again. Erik towered above Christine like an omnipotent being. He looked her up and down with blazing eyes and he sneered threateningly. "Rest assured Raoul will never find you. I would be surprised if he hasn't forgotten about you already and moved onto the next young beauty!"

"He wouldn't!" Christine protested.

But Erik was in no mood to argue. He had plans already made and would not let Christine ruin them by using up time. He turned to the door and made a move to leave but Christine's cry made him stop once more.

"Where are you going?" she cried. "Please Erik, please don't leave me here alone," her soft voice begged.

She just couldn't bare to be left alone. She didn't even know where they were.

Erik smiled softly at her and took a moment to lean down and kiss her forehead. "I will be right back with your surprise," he promised her with a devilish grin. "So please stay put my darling and I'll be right back for you."

Erik left the room and quickly locked the door behind him. He could still hear Christine sobbing as he descended the stairs. But Christine could cry and beg for help as much as she pleased, because no one was around to hear her pleas. No one apart from her groom.

Christine's water rimmed eyes studied the room urgently. She felt like she had been stolen out of her dream and thrust into the middle of a nightmare that was only getting darker and grimmer as it went on. She knew she couldn't just lie back and wait for Erik to return for her. Instead she composed herself, silenced her cries and fought against her bindings, hoping that in his haste Erik had not tied them properly.

But they only got tighter as she struggled.

"Please," she whispered, begging a higher power to free her. "Please." But no one answered her pleas for help, not even her God. Christine tensed as she realised just how much trouble she was in. There was no Raoul this time to come for her, no angry mob and she knew that even her kiss could not break Erik's determination.

She was trapped.

Loathing her surrender Christine lay on the bed and listened to the birds outside. Apart from them there was no noise. No busy streets, no music and no voices. Just nature. She envisioned the trees around the house, wondering how long the forest stretched and how far they were from any society. But these thoughts stressed her even more, as Christine secretly knew she was nowhere near home. So she turned her attention again to the room around her. It reminded her of her room in Erik's home under the Opera house. He had obviously gone to some effort gathering such luxurious items together in two days. Christine couldn't help but wonder how he managed to fund it all. Perhaps he paid with another man's blood. After all Erik was a murderer…a cold blooded killer.

A violent shiver rode up Christine's back, making her jolt in the bed. A sickening feeling began to spread in her stomach as she thought of how easy it would have been for Erik to just kill her when she had been sleeping. Christine had not even stirred when he had taken her. But thankfully Erik wanted something from Christine, and she knew exactly what this was.

Erik wanted to own her, possess her. He believed he had a claim on her and had taken her from Raoul to assert that claim. And what could Christine do about it now? Nothing.

Christine closed her eyes and lost herself in her thoughts. She couldn't stop thinking about Raoul and how he would react to her abduction. He would be distraught. Christine knew he would come after her, she hoped he would. She did not want to just disappear into a life of being a prisoner. She didn't want to be owned by a murderer.

All of a sudden there was a loud bang from below. Christine's eyes shot open, just in time to see the bedroom door swing open to reveal Erik. He regarded her with impatient angry eyes before storming over to the closet. Christine watched as he grabbed a white dress from the rail and threw it onto the bed.

Finally he gave her full eye contact, but his stare made Christine so uneasy she had to look away. She almost found herself wishing she was alone again.

"My darling," he sneered sarcastically. "It is time for our wedding ceremony to begin and you aren't even dressed yet."

"Erik," Christine stammered quietly.

He was by her side in a second, leering over her. With his mask on it just made him look all the more menacing.

"Yes my dear?" he asked softly.

"Please don't do this," she whispered, regretting it as soon as she had spoken.

A loud manic laugh erupted from Erik's misshapen lips and he turned away from her, returning to the dress. He began to unlace it at the back and prepared it for his nervous bride.

"I wonder if I will have to dress you myself," he began with a mischief smile. "Or will you obey me Christine?"

Christine continued to avoid his eyes, still quivering in her binds as she dreaded the wedding. But this wouldn't do for Erik. He paced over to her and snatched up her face in his hands, leaning down so they were forehead to forehead.

"Look at me Christine, you foolish child," he snarled furiously. "Look into the eyes of your future husband!"

To his surprise Christine met his glare. Her eyes were soaked with tears and narrowed hatefully.

"Don't look at me that way Christine," Erik growled. "You made this happen and deep down you know that you deserve this."

"You're mad," she hissed in reply and tried to turn her face away. But Erik caught her again with his strong hands.

"Look at your mad husband when he talks to you," Erik demanded.

Christine glared at him, her eyes full of disgust.

Gently Erik trailed his finger down from Christine's soft jaw bone to the nape of her neck where he took a firm hold.

"You will get ready for our wedding," he ordered inflexibly. "I will be back up to fetch you in twenty minutes and if you aren't ready I will drag you downstairs as you are."

Christine gulped heavily.

"Do you understand?" Erik asked.

Christine gave a slow gentle nod, still staring down at Erik's hand around her throat. He lightly squeezed, making her cry out in horror.

"Good," Erik grinned and pulled away. He quickly untied his bride and before she could make a move he stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut, quickly locking it behind him.

Christine stared after him. The tears were running down her soft pale skin now and she wondered if she could ever stop them flowing.

This was it, she thought to herself fearfully.

She was going to be Erik's bride.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter Two**

Christine glared at the white lacy dress in her cold pale hands. Her eyes watered as she considered its meaning. She was to marry Erik as a pure virgin, but then she was his to do with whatever he pleased. Although Christine was innocent she knew exactly what a marriage meant. The marriage would have to be consummated. How could she refuse him when he was her husband? How could she deny him what was legally his?

Christine shuddered violently. The blood that ran through her veins became ice rivers that rushed through her fast pumping heart. Panic shook her every nerve and yet all she could do was dress in Erik's wedding dress and wait there like a lamb being dragged to the slaughter.

Erik suddenly unlocked the door and raged into the room, surprising Christine. She spun around with a hairbrush in her hand and the white wedding dress on. A wide grin sprawled across Erik's face and for a moment his eyes softened. But the sweetness didn't last long at all.

"Good," he grunted and thrust his hand out for Christine to take. "I'm glad you chose correctly. And now my dear, our wedding awaits us."

He made a grab for Christine but she pulled away from him. A feverish mist cast over Erik's eyes and frowned deeply.

"Christine…My Christine…" he chuckled through ground teeth.

Christine began to back up but for every step she took backwards Erik took two swift steps forward until he was upon her. He wrapped his arms around her thin waist and lifted her from the floor. Christine kicked out wildly but Erik only laughed at her as he carried his unwilling bride from the room.

"Erik please stop this madness!" Christine cried but Erik did not listen. Slowly Christine began to surrender to his grasp, finding he was much stronger than she had remembered.

Erik carried her down stairs and into the sitting room of the cabin where a stranger stood. He looked around with wide eyes, seemingly unsure of what was going on.

"Well Father!" Erik laughed madly. He pulled Christine forward, pushing her in front of The Priest. "This is my lovely bride. Isn't she just a beautiful vision?"

"An angel," The Priest murmured.

He refused to look Christine in the eye and she began to wonder; that was when Christine saw what lay on the dark wooden table behind The Priest. A big bag full of money. Her mouth dropped open. Erik had paid a priest to come and marry them, even if Christine refused. This corruption of one so close to her God made Christine's heart ache, but there was little time to think about this betrayal. Christine's wedding was about to begin.

Erik gripped Christine's arm tightly, pulling her close to his side. As The Priest went through the ceremony and then vows he watched her face with a sick sort of satisfaction, loving her every reaction. Whether it was fear or total despair he soaked it up vigorously.

"And do you take this woman as your wife?" The Priest addressed Erik. "To love and protect for as long as you shall live?"

Erik's eyes blazed into Christine's. He grinned widely, hesitating. Although Christine knew exactly what Erik's answer would be.

"I do," he announced loudly.

Christine nervously bit down on her lip and threw a desperate glance towards The Priest, but he continued anyway.

"And do you take this man to be your husband?" he asked her softly. "To love, honour and obey for as long as you shall live?"

Christine stared at him for a moment and then she managed to look directly into Erik's cold eyes. He smiled down at her, it was an awfully bitter smile.

"Well my darling? It is not like you to be at a loss for words," he sneered.

But Christine held her head high, despite her body shaking. She hoped it wouldn't give her real fear away. Christine knew she had to be strong now, for whatever she said next would make no difference, she would be married to Erik. But it would affect what would happen after they married.

She spoke aloud, the strength of her voice surprised her but it also took Erik a moment to register that it had been his bride's voice.

"I do," Christine said again, this time to her husband.

Erik grinned manically as The Priest pronounced them man and wife.

Married at last Erik thought excitedly. He was married to his Christine, his Angel of Music. Now that she was his he could do whatever he pleased with her and Raoul could do nothing. Once the license was signed it was final. Till death do they part.

Christine knew she was his.

She was a wife, a Demon's wife.

But the wedding was not finished yet...

"You may seal the union with a kiss," The Priest said quietly. He bowed his head and turned away from us, taking the money he had been promised.

Erik grasped his wife's small tender hands and he almost gasped; he had forgotten how soft they were. He looked up into her eyes and noted they brimmed with tears, but they refused to fall past her long thick lashes. Christine was putting on a brave face and Erik knew this mask could not last forever. Either it would collapse by itself or he would have to tear it from her, just like she had torn his mask from him. It was the event that had ruined everything.

It was all her fault.

She deserved this. Or so Erik told himself.

He leaned in and suddenly claimed her young bride's soft full lips for himself. He kissed her passionately, holding nothing back. His misshapen lips pushed against hers roughly and his tongue explored her warm mouth, savouring her taste. Erik groaned lightly, pulling his wife closer to him. He knew he could not lose control quite yet,even though he ached to have her. He didn't want to just claim her as his but when he took her he wanted to show Christine just how much he really loved her.

He would make her see.

Then she would love him as he really was.

Finally Erik pulled away from her lips. He examined Christine's face, taking in her surprised expression. He smiled back at her cunningly and took a small arrogant bow before he turned to The Priest.

"I will take you halfway to the village as agreed," Erik declared firmly.

The Priest nodded submissively.

Erik grabbed the hand of his wife and began to drag Christine back towards the stairs. She went easily, almost too easily. Erik assumed she had finally realised he had won but as soon as Christine was near the door she stomped down on Erik's foot and tried to pull free from him.

Instantaneously Erik pounced after her, his body coming down hard and fast until she lay below him. He pinned his wife down using his strong muscular legs and he grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

Erik grinned victoriously and gave an amused chuckle.

"It is pointless resisting me Christine," he laughed.

He leaned down into her face, keeping his eyes locked onto hers. Their foreheads brushed and he could feel her rapid breaths against his face.

"You. Are. Mine." Erik growled. "My dearest wife."

Christine tried to look away in disgust but Erik only moved with her each time. He laughed loudly at her pathetic squirming and mocked her further by jumping up and throwing his wife up onto his shoulder with so little effort. She pounded on his back with her fists but it was useless.

Erik had won again.

He quickly carried his prize up onto their bedroom, making Christine cry out in distress.

"Oh my darling," Erik sighed. "I won't claim you quite yet if that's what you are worried about."

And with that Christine's struggle stopped for a moment as she considered this.

Erik gently lay his bride out onto the bed and he stepped back to admire his angel's beauty. He smiled softly, knowing she was all his. It was all he had ever wanted, and yet something deep within his just wasn't satisfied yet.

What more did he want?

He had won.

Erik leant over and pressed a tender kiss onto his wife's forehead. "I will return soon my darling," he assured her softly.

Hope flashed in Christine's eyes, but this was quickly extinguished.

"And if you dare to escape from our home I will chain you to the bed and you will never breathe air from the outside world again."

His threat was horrible and cold. But he meant every word of it, and Christine knew this. Her eyes grew wide with terror and finally water spilled from them freely.

Erik watched her in silence for a moment before he gently brushed her tears away with his cold hand. He frowned, wishing he didn't have to threaten her, but this was the only way.

"Christine," he murmured.

She looked up at him, still crying without sound. She covered her face with her hands but Erik pulled them away and sat her hands upon her stomach.

"Christine," he whispered, trying to soothe her. "I love you..."

She paused and met his eyes with hers. Her eyes filled with a passion, but this was far from the love Erik desired. This passion was quite the opposite.

Through ground teeth she spoke once more. "I hate you," she hissed.

Erik stared down at her longingly, but he did not take long to recover. Laughing he turned his back on her and headed for the door of the bedroom.

"I will return soon for you, _my darling angel_," he promised her. "And then you will be mine."

The door slammed shut.

Now all Christine could do was wait, wait for Erik to come back and claim what was rightfully his. Christine knew he would do it, without a hint of mercy.

Christine belonged to him.

Her body, soul and heart.

She was his.

_His Angel._


	3. Chapter 3

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter Three**

Christine searched the room frantically for her chance to escape, or even a weapon to wield. She rumbled through every drawer, every wardrobe and anywhere that could offer hope to her. But everywhere she looked failed her. There was no secret passage way for her, no keys and her choice of weapons was limited to a candle stick and a hairbrush.

She let out a frustrated cry and dropped to her knees on the hardwood floor. The pain jolted up through her body but she did not care. All she could feel was the desperation that rippled through her in thick waves. All she could think of was her escape and what would happen if she did not make it on time. And time was slowly slipping through her thin fingers like sand.

Erik would be back any time.

Her husband.

Motivated by thoughts of her wedding night ahead Christine stormed over to the window and tried it. She tried to open it normally and when that failed she tried to force it open. But luck was not with Christine. She was trapped with only her marital bed for company. It lay behind her, mocking her with the promises of the night ahead. Christine was sure Erik would take from her whatever he wanted. He wouldn't ask nor beg. This Erik was not the Erik that had been her Angel or teacher, no this Erik was even more crazed than before.

"Please…" Christine murmured. She looked around, catching a glimpse of herself in the long mirror on the wall by her dressing table. She stared at herself, still finding it hard to believe she was a bride and now a wife.

Christine turned away from her refection and began to search her brain for ideas. How could she escape? How long did she have before Erik returned to claim her? Her mind rattled on and on but as she plotted the sun outside began to darken and the air began to cool. Night was falling upon her like a shroud, encasing her in an eerie darkness. Soon the sun was gone completely.

Christine dried her eyes of the salty tears and got up from the floor. She looked around, finding herself beginning to surrender to her fate. That was when an idea came to Christine. It was more of a hope than an idea, but it was something.

She turned to the mirror and looked herself in the eye. It hurt to look at herself; her reflection showed her a woman and child rolled into one person and it scared Christine. She could not believe how womanly she looked in her wedding dress. It did not feel like her.

Christine lifted the hairbrush and examined the pointed end. She took a deep breath and faced her reflection with it and forced a small smile. Suddenly she stabbed ferociously and kept stabbing until the glass of the mirror began to break apart. Christine grinned triumphantly. She had been right. There was a secret compartment behind the mirror where she could be watched at all times, just like Erik had watched her in the Opera house and his home.

Christine continued to shatter the glass and when there was enough room she stepped forward and over what was left of the mirror.

However Christine's joy was short lived.

A white porcelain mask emerges from the darkness behind the mirror and before Christine could even scream a pair of gloved hands angrily grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her. Erik pushed his bride from inside the compartment and back into their room. In a powerful rage Erik roughly escorted Christine to their bed and he shoved her down.

Terrified of what Erik was about to do, Christine screamed and lashed out for him with her hands and feet but Erik was upon her swiftly. He pinned her down with his strong body so easily that it made Christine cry out in frustration. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't get him off of her. He could do whatever he wanted with his wife now, and legally he had every right to. But Erik just watched his wife, waiting until she stopped fighting against him and surrendered to his grasp.

He smiled down at her, wearing that wicked smirk. He had beaten her yet again and now it was time to finally claim the prize he had been waiting for so long to take.

Erik leaned down, placing a gentle kiss onto Christine's sensitive neck.

She whimpered.

"You really know how to try my patience Christine," Erik hissed into her hear. "But you have escaped me for the last time, _my dear_. You cannot run from fate for ever. You cannot ever leave your Angel again."

Christine shuddered violently below him and all she could do was watch in horror as Erik quickly flipped over her and began to unlace her from the wedding dress eagerly.

"Please Erik…" she begged him but her wedding dress was already slipping down her body. Now all she had was her lacy undergarments to cover her soft creamy flesh and Erik was hell bent on exposing every inch of her. After all she belonged to him.

"Please Erik," Erik mimicked in a mocking hiss. "No use in fighting me now Christine. We are man and wife and we shall live as such."

He threw her onto her back and quickly began to strip her of her layers of undergarments starting with her corset and then her underskirts. Erik tore at the thin delicate fabrics like a hungry beast. Christine shrieked as she heard the awful ripping sound. But Erik wouldn't stop for her. He couldn't stop. Something very primal ached within him, seizing full control of his senses. It was more powerful than any music or drug and it had a desperate need for satisfaction.

A sudden chill came over Christine's body and it was then she realised she was completely exposed to him. She looked up, studying Erik's face nervously. She hoped her own reaction would put him off of what he was about to do but then she saw his own reaction.

His misshapen mouth lay open, his eyes were wide and yet not with fear. This was a far different look. Lust consumed Erik and he tore angrily at his own clothes, quickly stripping off on top of her while he watched the beautiful swell of her breasts rise and fall with her heavy rapid breaths.

Christine closed her eyes tightly shut as she felt Erik's warm flesh pressing down against hers. She gasped, surprised his body was so warm; his hands were always so cold.

"W-What?" she stammered.

Erik grinned widely and his eyes flashed with mischief. "I am going to make you love me Christine by showing you just how much I love you. I will make you want me," he promised her firmly.

"Christine…" Erik breathed lightly. "Open your eyes. I have something very special for you."

Reluctantly Christine obeyed and she met his eyes with her own.

"W-What?" she stammered.

Erik grinned widely and his eyes flashed with mischief. "I am going to make you love me Christine by showing you just how much I love you. I will make you want me," he promised her firmly.

Christine was surprised by his arrogance.

"Have you done this before?" she asked in a whisper. Suddenly she felt even more uncomfortable under him.

Erik quickly shook his head and smiled. "I have not lived underground all my life my sweet Christine and I have read so many books about how to do such things." He paused, studying her face. She stared back at him in shock. Erik tried not to let his eyes wonder again to her naked flesh; he would not be able to control himself if he saw her soft breasts again.

"Let me show you how much I love you," Erik whispered and before Christine could question him he slipped down her body and pushed her legs apart.

He savoured how soft they were and kissed their creamy pale skin. Christine whimpered lightly but she didn't move, which encouraged Erik. He glanced up to see her staring back down at him, watching his every move with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

He grinned back up at her took his long piano fingers, gently stroking them up and down her womanhood. She gasped lightly in surprise but Erik wasn't done yet. He followed the warmth of her down to the hottest point and he groaned aloud as he discovered just how wet his bride was. Erik began to explore her, teasing her.

Christine moaned quietly and Erik watched as she let her head lull back and her body relax. It was as if she was inviting him to take her now. Had she really surrendered?

"Oh my Christine," Erik said softly. "Don't you feel this? Don't you know how wet you are?" he questioned her excitedly. "You ache for me my darling," he told her firmly. "And now you need ache no more."

Suddenly his lips were upon her most sensitive spot and he kissed her there, making his beautiful bride's back arch up off the bed.

Erik grinned widely and opened his mouth. Gently he placed his warm tongue onto her and began to circle the sensitive spot, lapping her up. He began to thrust his tongue and to Erik's pleasure Christine cried out for him to keep going.

Erik quietly obeyed his bride.

He loved her taste and the way she groaned and writhed on the bed. It was if the pleasure had taken over Christine's mind and body, making her forget the struggle she had once put up.

Erik had finally won the battle.

All of a sudden Christine's groans become more throaty and desperate. She cried out, her cries closer and closer to each other. A great pressure began to build with her body and as Erik continued the pressure grew so great Christine knew it had to burst.

Suddenly a wave of ecstasy rolled over her, making her throat cry out the strangest of moans. Christine could not help herself. Her hips lifted off of the bed and she bucked up. Erik held her tightly and managed to keep his tongue on her as she fell deep into her world of unearthly delight.

As Erik pulled away from his bride she slumped down on the bed and her head fell to the side. She closed over her eyes and sighed deeply.

Erik smiled softly, licking his lips as he looked his beautiful wife up and down, cherishing her every curve. He had no idea how long he could resist her. He looked down at his throbbing manhood to discover how swollen it had become. Erik replayed Christine's noises in his head, making his desire grow and grow until he could no longer be refused.

Quietly he pushed his beautiful bride's legs further open and he placed one more gentle kiss against her. Christine was beginning to stir from her trance but by the time she realised what Erik was up to the tip of him was already pressed against her.

She looked down, watching him carefully. She had never seen such a thing before and for a moment she felt fear. Erik smiled at her softly.

"It won't hurt for long my darling," he promised her.

Christine was still not convinced and now that she had composed herself she tried to push Erik away from her.

Frowning Erik grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, holding them there with one strong hand.

She struggled weakly below him but Erik had already made up his mind. He wanted her and he would take her.

He thrust himself inside of her, breaking though her virginal barrier without a problem. Christine cried out, tears touching her eyes.

Erik tried his best not to be rough, but it was so hard to resist his inner animal's roar as he was engulfed in Christine's soft warm walls. He thrust inside her gently, pressing up against Christine's most sensitive area inside each time.

At first she began to hiss in pain and whine but as Erik continued she began to quieten down and then groan happily as Erik struck the right area each time, becoming rougher as time went on.

Erik moaned loudly and now that Christine's pain was over they could at last make love as man and wife. Finally their bodies had become one and thoughts began to dwindle. Their passion took over them, consuming their bodies and minds.

Erik's thrust became harder and Christine began to move against him, her cries becoming more needy.

"Please Erik!" She begged him. "Please…"

Erik kept going, his pace becoming more rapid as they both sought their own release. It was Christine who found hers first.

She cried out loudly and as her cries came closer together Erik knew he had to speed up once more. Again and again he thrust his hardness inside her until her body clenched around his and she cried out.

The ecstasy of her orgasm consumed her completely. It was more powerful than her first and made her whole body thud with pleasure.

Excited by Christine's cries Erik finally found his own release deep inside her. With one more fast hard thrust he felt the pressure explode within him and the world around him seemed to burst with light. He groaned loudly and began to slow down as his seed spilled into her.

The deed was done.

Their marriage had been consummated and Erik had finally gotten what he had been fighting for so long.

He had claimed his Christine.

She was his for eternity.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Phantom's claim**

**Chapter Four**

For the first time in so long Erik's sleep was dreamless. When he woke he could not remember any horrors from his night. There had been no mother to leave him, no one to fear his deformity or to destroy him for being the Devil. There was nothing. And for the first time Erik felt refreshed from his sleep.

He glanced down to find his beautiful wife still sleeping in his arms. Erik smiled as he studied her. Christine's long dark curls cascaded down past her shoulders and disappeared under the soft covers but her long slender neck was fully exposed and Erik was captivated by her beauty, by her soft content smile. His Christine was happy in his arms…This thought overwhelmed Erik with delight, a happiness he had not felt since the day Christine had followed him down into his domain below the opera house.

Erik called the memory forth. He remembered hearing her singing like a lark around the opera house, when she thought no one could hear her. Once Erik had traced the beautiful voice he watched her constantly, like a predator stalking its prey in the shadows and illusions he had created.

Through almost every mirror he could watch her in secret with his hand pressed up against the glass. He had always imagined how it would feel to touch her…to kiss her. Now she was his and there would never be a day when she wasn't by his side. His Christine would always be there, singing only for him. Erik would never have to lurk in shadows again.

Christine began to stir, pulling Erik from his deep thoughts. He held her tightly and gently kissed her forehead.

"Good morning, my love," Erik said softly.

Christine's eyes widened and for a moment a bolt of fear shot through her. Then she remembered what had happened the day before. Thoughts from that night also crept back into her mind, her wedding night with Erik…

She froze for a moment and tried to summon words to her mouth. By this time Erik had moved to her neck and was gently kissing her. He was so happy to have her with him. Erik could hardly believe she was his.

Christine found a smile upon her lips and at last she turned to face her husband.

Erik smiled back at her; he had been worried to how she would react. But everything was perfect.

"Erik…" Christine whispered. "We are really married."

He gave a light nod and gently cupped her soft chin. Christine stared into his eyes as if she truly was enchanted and for a moment they just lay there together, their body and soul bared to one another.

Slowly Christine raised her arm and Erik believed she was going to touch his chest, but her hand continued further up, heading for his face…his mask.

Erik swiftly grabbed her thin wrist and captured her hand before she could even touch his mask. Surprised, Christine tried to pull her hand away but that look in Erik's eyes told her she would not be able to escape. His eyes were wide and mad, blazing as they looked back into hers.

"You will not touch my mask," he told her firmly. "If you try ever again I will punish you," he threatened.

Christine pulled her hand again and this time Erik threw it back at her, knocking her off-balance and down onto the pillows again. She let out an unhappy cry and turned away from her husband, frightened of what he would do next. But all was still.

Erik stared down at his bride. How she cowered before him like a frightened child, trying to hide under the covers. She even began to cry.

"Christine…" Erik murmured softly. "Do you understand why this must be?"

Christine shied away.

Erik did not feel guilty for his outburst. He had to stop her from ruining everything again by exposing the true ugliness of her husband. If she did she would only try and escape again and she would never learn to love him. Erik knew Christine could learn to love him. One day maybe she would love him as much as he adored her. But for that dream to come true Erik knew his dear Christine could not see his corpse like face again. Christine wanted a man to love and hold her, not a corpse.

"It is necessary you never see my face," he tried to explain to her calmly. But Christine still turned away from him.

Erik grabbed her shoulders and quickly spun her around to face him. She stared at him with wide teary blue eyes.

"I won't ever let you leave Christine," Erik promised her

"I-I won't," she stammered in reply.

Erik smiled again and brought his wife close to him. He wrapped his arms around her small bare waist and Christine also wrapped her thin delicate arms around Erik's strong torso. They were entwined in each other's bodies as man and wife, as lovers, and yet nothing had changed. Christine was still afraid and Erik feared his Christine may slip away from him once more. The union had solved nothing.

"Are you hungry my love?" Erik finally spoke.

Christine looked up, she had almost fallen asleep again but Erik's enchanting voice had brought her back into reality.

She nodded lightly.

"I have something special for you arriving soon," Erik admitted softly.

"Really?" Christine asked curiously.

"I couldn't help but remember how much you enjoyed the pastries we ate for breakfast one day," Erik began to explain. "You ate as if you had never had breakfast before," he added with a light chuckle. "And so for our breakfast I have arranged a delivery of some fresh pastries from the village bakery."

"Wonderful!" Christine beamed excitedly.

Erik smiled at how easily impressed his wife was. All it took was a few pastries to make her smile and yet that smile could brighten his world and inspire his music. To Erik her smile was the stars in his sky. Yes he could live without it if he had to, if he had to keep her against her will, but with it life was alight and full of beauty.

"Christine," Erik said gently. "I know we can be happy together, you and I." He paused, searching her face for any sign of a reaction. But Christine gave nothing away with her gaze. She was listening to his every word, hanging on each of them as she considered her options.

"Away from the world," Erik continued in a soft seductive voice, the one he had first used to coax his intended into the mirror. "I will make sure you never hunger, you are never unhappy and I will give you all I can. Our children will be loved and cherished and will never be alone. You will never be alone again, my Christine."

Christine managed a soft smile and she rubbed her cheek against Erik's warm flesh but that was when the reality of what Erik had just said hit her.

"Children…" she repeated in a timid whisper.

"Why yes, _our children_ Christine," he told her with a grin. "Why? Have you forgotten our vows already or do you just believe I am incapable of love?"

"No!" Christine cried. "I said nothing like that!"

She tried to defend herself but Erik spoke again, more livid than before.

"You are my wife," he hissed possessively. "It is your job to love, honour and obey. These are your duties now! Now you can't escape from your fate Christine as now legally you are mine! And together we shall have a family."

Christine said nothing. She knew that nothing she could say could calm the temper of the Opera Ghost before her.

"Does it disgust you that you will have my children?" Erik sneered. "Would you rather have _his_ perfect babies? Your pitiful Vicomte!"

"Erik no!" Christine cried. "Please stop this!"

She grabbed her husband's hand and held them tight, surprising him. He looked into her eyes, seeing the tears he had caused in them.

"Our children will be beautiful and musical," she told him softly. "Girls with long golden curls and ribbons in their hair and boys smartly dress and brave like their father. And they'll all sing… and play. We'll have our very own little cast."

This thought made Erik's wide happy grin return.

"Ah Christine, my love," he chimed. "Finally a family of my own."

Christine nodded gently and quickly kissed her husband's lips. His smile brightened and he threw back the covers of the bed. Christine cried out, quickly covering herself but Erik was strong. He pulled her arms away from her body and revealed the womanly figure she had tried to hide from him.

"I see no need to leave the house today," he said huskily. Erik could not take his eyes away from her body. It was like when he had seen her naked for the first time. All he wanted to do was touch and kiss ever inch, desperate to know if every inch of her was as soft as her lips she had once kissed him with.

Christine stared up at him with a mixture of fear and desire. She had never felt like this before towards a man and yet this urge deep within her seemed to be so powerful it could override any other emotion or thought she had developed throughout her entire life.

Suddenly there was a loud chap at the front door and Erik gave out a heavy sigh. He quickly stole a kiss from his wife's sweet lips and leapt up from the bed. Christine watched him as he changed into his normal pristine attire and quickly groomed back his black hair with an arrogant confidence. As she watched Christine found it hard to believe she had really married him, the Opera Ghost. It was even harder to comprehend he was a man of true mortal flesh and not the angel she had once envisioned. But just because he was a man of flesh and blood and not of Heaven, it didn't mean Erik could be _her_ angel.

"Take your time dressing my love," Erik addressed her with a cheerful smile. "Everything you could every need is here and whatever is not I shall provide it for you."

Christine giggled quietly, capturing Erik's attention again, but then his eyes met her body again and for a moment he was prepared to pounce. How could he resist his bride's beauty?

"A new mirror would be nice…" Christine joked timidly.

Erik smirked and kissed her forehead gently before pulling away. He made a few steps towards the door, trying his hardest to restrain himself.

"Will you promise me not to smash this one?" he questioned with a mock serious voice. "You were very lucky you didn't get hurt you mad child."

Christine smiled and gave a light nod. Erik left the room, closing the door behind him but then there was that loud clunk noise after it. Christine frowned, realising to her horror that just because they were married it did not make Erik's home any less of a prison.

Erik would never trust her and he would never let her go.

Christine was and always would be his prisoner.

Would she every be truly happy?


	5. Chapter 5

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter Five**

Christine dressed in a light pastel blue dress with a ruffled skirt and quickly swept her hair back. Now all she had to do was wait for Erik to come and fetch her from their bedroom. It was disheartening that he had felt the need to lock the door. After all she had given him everything. Christine had given him her life, her hand in marriage and even her virginity. She was all his. Yet he still did not trust her.

As she waited Christine eyes began to wonder the room, focusing on the smashed up mirror. The sharp glistening pieces still lay spilled out over the dark wooden floor. Christine had been ever so careful not to tread on them.

Soon she found herself on her feet and by the mirror, again avoiding the glass. Curiosity beckoned her forward and she looked into the darkness, pondering where it would lead her if she followed it.

As soon as Christine had stepped onto the compartment she heard the door click behind her. She swiftly turned around but Erik was much faster than her. He appeared beside her with the agility of a phantom. Christine hadn't even heard his footsteps.

Erik's eyes, those stormy blue orbs, blazed into Christine's bright blue eyes, scorching her soul deep within.

She shivered violently under his watch.

"Er-" She tried to say. But it was useless.

He reached out to grab her but this time Christine was ready. She jumped backwards further inside the compartment and then began to run, finding there were stairs leading down into a cold dark room.

"Christine," Erik hissed.

Her attempt to escape was pathetic Erik thought arrogantly as he followed her slowly, taking his time with every step. There was no way out of the room the stairway led to, no way that Christine would be able to find anyway.

Finally he arrived at the bottom of the stairs and faced his quivering bride who was at the other side of the room also waiting for him. He leant against the door frame, stalking her with his eyes.

Christine stared up at him with wide eyes. This was not the man she lay with last night or woke up with this morning. This was the Erik who had abducted her and forced her to marry him. This was the Opera Ghost.

His powerful presence alone was enough to make Christine shudder. It was the expression he had worn so many times before; that arrogant head tilt, unbreakable confidence and deadly determination. His eyes seemed to flash when they rested on her, with something deep and carnal.

And yet he moved towards her with the elegance of an angel. Each footstep silent and well placed. His eyes never left her.

"I wasn't running," Christine blurted out. But Erik's expression never changed. It was as if he had stopped listening altogether.

Although Erik wore his mask Christine thought she could tell exactly what he was thinking…planning. And so she pounced first and tried to dash past him. But Erik was too fast. He grabbed her and they plummeted to the ground together in a tangled mess.

Christine cried out as she attempted to escape his rough grasp but her struggle was useless. Erik managed to pin his wife down on the cold hard stone floor.

His eyes burned into hers, making her inhale a deep gasp.

She whispered his name, but Erik was gone.

Suddenly Erik heaved up Christine's skirts and he carelessly threw them up and over her waist. Christine gave a surprised cry but Erik had already moved onto her pantaloons. He savagely ripped them apart as if they were paper in his hands.

The tearing noises made Christine's heart pound madly and she could almost feel herself unwind as he moved onto her last undergarment. Finally she was bared to him.

Unlike before when Erik stroked her womanhood he said nothing. He didn't even comment on how wet she was for him, he only gave a quiet throaty grunt of delight and this was only due to a slight touch. He could already tell his wife practically dripped for him and this drove him crazy with a sinful lust.

Suddenly his strong long fingers thrust inside her and before Christine could refuse such a brutal touch Erik's fingers began to stroke and push her soft walls, focusing intently on one particular spot.

Christine's whole body jolted, almost bucking, as Erik worked hard within her. She let out a loud cry that was so foreign to Christine she almost believed it wasn't her own.

She reached up and grabbed hold of Erik's shoulders, grasping tightly as he continued to thrust deeply and violently.

"Erik!" Christine groaned huskily.

Erik's tempo increased, still focusing on that one sweet spot.

The pressure within Christine began to build and build until she couldn't take it anymore. Her groans became higher and higher pitched and then she let out a loud moan of relief as the pressure exploded inside her, releasing strong waves of ecstasy over and over.

For a moment Christine forgot everything. She forgot who she was, where she was and that she was even living. Her eyes closed over and she felt like she was sailing.

Her brain was flooded with pleasure and her body pumped it through each and every vein.

Erik watched her face with a satisfied smirk. He leaned over and gently kissed her lips but he knew that his Christine was no longer with him. She was soaring high and he would patently wait for his beloved's return.

Until then he held her close, resting his head onto her chest. Content, he listened to her heartbeat. It was the most beautiful music he had ever heard, and he had created its fast strong beat.

"Ah Christine," Erik murmured happily.

Her eyelids flickered slightly but did not open.

"I knew you weren't trying to escape," he admitted with a soft chuckle. "You curious child."

A smile curved Christine's pale pink lips and at last her eyes fluttered open. She stared down at her husband, seeing the loving soul she had met this morning.

"You scared me," Christine confessed. "I thought you were angry with me."

Erik sat up and gently brushed the hair from Christine's cooling face. Her sparkling blue eyes caught him for a moment and he cherished how clouded they were after what he had done to her.

"No, this emotion was much stronger than anger," he told her in a low husky voice. "And still it overpowers me as I speak to you now."

Christine gulped heavily.

"I want to claim you all over again," Erik hissed. "Make you mine."

Christine's heart began to speed up once more.

Erik's hand casually found her slick womanhood again and he gently stroked up and down, running against her sensitive spot.

"Do you want more, my love?" he questioned.

Christine stared at him with wide shocked eyes.

Erik grinned back at her devilishly, with that same haughtiness.

He leaned into her, pressing his forehead against hers, staring deep into her glossy blue eyes.

"I want to see how beautiful you are when you come for me," he demanded wickedly. "And I want to hear you scream out my name from your soft rosy lips."

Christine's breath caught in her throat and for a moment she forgot how to breathe.

"You are mine," Erik growled into her ear fiercely. "Say it Christine!"

"I am yours," she whispered.

Erik bit down on her earlobe just enough to make her cry out.

"Louder," he ordered forcefully.

Christine gathered all the voice she had left and filled her lungs with air.

"I am yours!" She cried loudly.

Erik grinned triumphantly and began to remove his trousers.

Christine watched intently, knowing what was to come next. But another thought plagued her mind, making her smile widen still. She did belong to him. And she had never been happier.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter Six**

Erik pulled a wooden chair at the table out for his wife and gently helped her to sit. He smiled down at her and carefully brushed the hair back off her pale face and behind her ears. She smiled back up at him, blushing lightly as she remembered what this suddenly gentlemanlike husband and just done to her.

Erik then disappeared into the kitchen of the house, whistling a familiar tune which made Christine smile.

As she sat and waited for him Christine brushed down the skirts of her blue dress and tried to get the images out of her mind.

What had she become? Surely it wasn't acceptable to behave like this, even with your husband?

But then again nothing in Christine's new life was acceptable, such as marrying the man who abducted her.

She looked around the room, again impressed by the furnishings Erik had required in such a short time. Perhaps he had used up all his stolen francs from the opera house to pay for it all.

"Erik?" Christine called through.

She tried to hide the concern from her voice but Christine was never very good at lying, especially to Erik.

Her husband was by her side in seconds and not long after the fresh bakery scent filled her nostrils. Christine inhaled happily and her eyes grew as Erik sat the plate down between them. You see it wasn't just a couple of pastries Erik had bought for her; it was almost the whole bakery.

"Wow…Erik," Christine murmured in disbelief. "This is a real feast."

He flashed her a wide grin and gestured to the great mountain of pastries before them. "Our wedding feast if you will," he said softly. "I am just sorry it will be us dining alone, but then again I prefer it that way."

Christine gave a light nod and took a croissant from the plate. She quickly tore it into two and bit into the soft flaky pastry. She let out a loud sigh of content.

"Oh Erik, these are lovely!" she cried happily and took another big bite.

Erik laughed, quite impressed on how much she could bite off in one attempt. But this just reminded him of Christine's past. He knew that her father had tried his best to support his daughter and yet it had never been enough. Christine would be hungry, cold and sometimes even alone. She had seen poverty, tasted death and known pain.

And so Erik swore to himself he would see she never grieved again nor wanted for anything. He would surround her with all the luxuries she could imagine and more, and then he could also make sure she was never alone again. He would provide her with everything she needed but not quite everything she wanted, for she would never be free to leave.

As Christine happily tore into her special breakfast Erik could not help but notice how her nose crinkled slightly and her eyebrows bent. She looked as if she was deep in thought, trying to figure something out and Erik believed he knew exactly what it was.

"I made a friend," he said suddenly.

Christine looked up from her feast and noticed then Erik wasn't eating. Had he been watching her with those cool blue eyes the whole time?

"They left him on the street to die, even refused him in their church," Erik continued sadly. "My friend is blind you see Christine and so he cannot see at all, not even his own nose."

Christine listened intently, wondering where this was leading to.

"The boy does not know who I am, or where we really live. He took a carriage to the foot of the woods and I met him there once the coach had driven away. It was the boy that brought us the bakery goods and I have decided to keep him on as a servant and my ears in the village."

"Oh," Christine said quietly. She couldn't help but think this was all an elaborate plan to prevent them being found, not because Erik had a kind heart and wanted to help the boy. "Where is he now?" Christine asked.

Erik smiled and finally reached over for a croissant. Christine watched carefully, hoping he would eat soon as she was beginning to realise just how much she was eating. But he sat it upon his own plate and left it there.

"He is in the drawing room probably trying to count the money I gave him for our breakfast," Erik told her briefly. "I have some tasks for him to do today so I will issue them soon and let him go afterwards."

Christine nodded and gave a faint smile.

"What is wrong, my love?" Erik asked her softly. "Is the food alright?"

"Oh yes Erik, the food is perfect," she insisted. "I just…" Christine paused, not really knowing how to say it to Erik without making him mad.

"Go on…" Erik encouraged, leaning in closer to his wife.

Christine froze. Her cool blue eyes were wide and alert as they stared back into his. However Erik was calm and calculated as ever.

"What if we were found? If we were recognized by someone?" she asked him softly.

Erik's eyebrow arched slightly and he took Christine's hands into his, holding them tightly. He leaned over the table and stood up so that he could see directly into Christine's eyes. Then he smirked and it was that wicked smirk that Christine had seen before. She swallowed hard.

"Well my dear," Erik hissed. "Then I would have to kill them."

Christine desperately searched her husband's pale face, hoping to find some give away that Erik was joking like before. But in her search Christine only made herself fear him more. His eyes were narrowed and flashed with a deep dark intent and those pink lips were still curved into that devious grin.

The murderous Opera Ghost had returned.

"To keep you Christine, to keep you here with me, I would gut them from throat to pelvis with my blade." Erik's voice was mad and driven, which scared Christine to her core. But Erik wasn't finished yet.

He reached across and wrapped his hand around Christine's slim long neck. She gasped but did not dare shrink from his touch.

"And if you dared to try and escape from me Christine I would have to punish you too you understand?" he asked her coldly. "And do you know what I would do to punish you, my sweet wife?"

Christine shook her head gently, her eyes did not leave his, even when they became more rabid with his blood lust.

"Christine," he hissed.

It made Christine shiver to hear her name said so feverishly upon his lips.

"I would find that little Vicomte of yours and slit open his neck before you," Erik told her menacingly. "Afterward I could even sever the head completely and you could keep it as a gift, a reminder of your foolish Vicomte."

Christine tried to pull away but Erik tightened his grip around her neck. He looked deeply into her eyes and sneered. "So don't even think about it Christine. You are staying right here with me, eternally."

"Please," she whispered.

Erik lightened his grip, realising it was far too tight. It was just sometimes he forgot how fragile Christine was. He could easily break her.

"I won't Erik…I was just wondering," she tried but Erik cut her off.

"Don't wonder," he insisted in a snarl. "Just accept your fate now Christine and forget all that you knew before I came for you. Forget Raoul, disregard the outside world and only look to me," he was becoming more and more agitated. It almost sounded like he was begging her.

"Erik," Christine smiled softly. She was afraid of him and yet she saw that Erik was just as afraid as her at that moment, afraid of losing his Christine.

His eyes softened and he pulled away from her, leaving the table swiftly. Christine watched as he swiftly moved towards the stairs. He paused at the bottom and reached his hand out to her. Christine was quickly on her feet and moving towards him. She accepted his hand and this brought a small smile to Erik's lips.

"Christine," he whispered.

Erik slowly turned to her, taking her other hand in his. He drew her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her hand upon his chest.

"Christine," Erik said again, just as softly as before. "I love you…"

"Oh Erik…" she whispered in reply. Memories of a dark night deep under the opera house came flooding back into her head. This admission, this opening of Erik's heart had killed her then, but now it made her heart warm.

"I love you Christine," Erik repeated with a smile.

He gently cupped her face and forced her to look upwards into his eyes. "And I know you do not love me, my dear, not yet you don't…and that is fine."

Christine went to interrupt but Erik pressed a slender finger to her soft lips.

"Shhh," he hushed. "Christine you do not love me but soon you will. I will show you how to love me Christine, my dearest."

She tried to look away but Erik kept her there. He watched tentatively as water began to run down her cheeks.

"Oh come now," Erik sighed softly and he gently brushed her tears away.

"Erik," Christine murmured.

"No more tears, my darling," he ordered tenderly. "Come now."

Without warning Erik gathered his wife into his arms and held her against his chest. She looked to him, feeling at ease in his arms. "Erik," she said quietly, her voice barely audible. "I think I could love you."

"You think?" Erik copied slowly.

Christine's eyes widened fearfully. She wished she had not spoken at all but then Erik smiled again.

"For now, my love, that will do." He paused, studying her reaction with a secretive smirk. "But you will love me. I promise you."

Learning her lesson Christine did not speak again about the subject that day. Instead she did what Erik asked of her and did not mention love or freedom. Erik even tried to take her mind off of it by promising her a special treat the next day. But Christine knew the two subjects could not be hidden away under a rug forever. Soon she would have to attain one or the other.

I think I could love him she pondered silently that night.

Could fear really turn to love?


	7. Chapter 7

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter Seven**

Christine had been living under Erik's rule for an entire week before he let her step a foot outside. Even then his icy eyes watched over her with such a blazing gaze that Christine was always aware that he was near and noting her every move. Christine did not stray far from the house, she rarely left the front porch but to her this was the step in the right direction, towards freedom. Not freedom from her marriage but liberation from within it. She would remain with Erik, her husband, but only if she could mould the marriage to her will and not of the strict rules of the Opera Ghost.

Erik watched his wife from the porch. He had his arms crossed firmly over his chest and his long black cape moved in the wind, his stance was strong and commanding but he wore a soft expression on his masked face as he watched his Christine gather the wild flowers for her vase.

He could not help but drink in her beauty and become enthralled all over again by the innocence of her. It was like seeing her for the first time. Erik recalled how she gleamed on the stage and how her voice soared. It was the night that changed his life forever and made him realise that he could love.

When Erik looked up from his thoughts to his horror Christine had vanished from sight. The clearing around the house was bare and the bunch of flowers Christine had been clutching lay in a heap on the forest floor. Erik's heart seemed to stop for a moment before furiously pumping adrenaline around his body.

"Christine!" he screamed out hoarsely.

Had she ran from him? Did she really think she could escape her Angel, her husband? Had she completely forgotten she could never outrun or hide from the Opera Ghost?

Or perhaps there was a darker side to her disappearance…Had someone found them?

Erik strode around the house shouting for his Christine to return to him. He angrily banged his fists on the walls of the house and then hissed in pain. His anger and fear consumed him, making him into the bloodthirsty Opera Ghost he had tried so hard to repress for his young bride.

He stalked further through the forest still screaming her name. His voice echoed loudly through the woods and birds flew from the tree tops above. Erik knew he would look quite frightening to anyone who should pass him by. He was a wrathful man wearing a mask and a long black cape. He looked insane.

"Christine where are you hiding? Do you not understand you cannot run from me, you foolish child?" he yelled.

But there was no response.

"Christine!" he called.

Erik buried his head into his hands and cried out in fury. She had betrayed him yet again and he would see to it that she was properly punished for her actions. Erik would make sure his wife would never leave him again, even if that meant breaking her legs or tying her down for the rest of her days.

He would never let her leave.

Enraged, Erik stormed back to the cabin to gather some supplies for the hunt, just in case Christine had been snatched from him and Erik would have to slaughter the kidnapper.

But Erik was halted in his tracks when he arrived in the clearing where Christine had disappeared. He stared at the porch where his Angel sat in her fine pale blue skirts with the flowers by her side. Erik had almost been right; his Angel did have company but this visitor was small and furry and lay curled up in his wife's lap. It was a little rabbit.

Christine looked up to her husband, flashing a soft smile but this soon vanished when she saw the rage in her husband's eyes. She curled up slightly, taking a defensive position.

"Erik?" she said softly.

This was all it took to snap Erik from his Opera Ghost rampage. His features softened and his shoulders shrank. He paced towards his wife and sat beside her on the stairs, looking down at the tiny creature she had discovered.

"What is it you have brought me, my darling?" he asked her gently.

Christine stared at him, wondering why he had been so frightening when he appeared before her. She forced a small smile and lifted the little rabbit into Erik's pale hands.

"I found him in the bushes," Christine explained quietly. "He was all alone."

Erik frowned slightly, examining the tiny fur ball Christine had placed in his hands. If he wanted to he could simply crush the creature and end its misery, but he didn't.

"He is probably the runt of the litter," Erik explained to his innocent Christine. "It is most likely the mother rejected him."

"Oh that's awful!" Christine cried in distraught.

"Yes," Erik frowned. "It is."

Christine gently stroked her fingers down the tiny rabbit's fur and smiled softly as it shuffled in Erik's hands.

"He's very calm for a little rabbit," she commented. "Do you think he is malnourished?"

"I believe he will be, my dear," Erik nodded in agreement. "It is probably why he was so easy for you to catch."

Erik looked at his wife, seeing her so unhappy made him feel guilty he had thought she had run from him after all they had built together. The relationship was finally becoming steady, like a proper marriage, or even better. Yet Erik still had that temper and he knew that one day if he wasn't careful he could ruin everything he had worked so hard to attain.

He could destroy his once chance at love.

Erik then saw Christine's bright blue eyes as she gazed down at the little rabbit he held. Her eyes were wet with pity, just as they had been when he had led her down to his lair for the final time. Erik looked back to the little rabbit and sighed softly. They had one thing in common; their mothers' had abandoned them for death.

But Erik would not let death claim the rabbit, not when Christine had such a love for the little creature.

"Care for him Christine," he ordered gently.

Christine's face lit up with joy.

Erik softly smiled, relieved to see her happy once more.

"I will retrieve you anything you need to care for him," he promised her as he placed the little rabbit into her hands. "Will this make you happy, my love?"

"Yes Erik," Christine grinned. "Thank you."

Erik nodded and got to his feet. He helped his wife up by holding her waist and guided her into the house with their new resident.

Yes, Erik thought to himself as she watched his wife rush to the kitchen to nourish the little rabbit. If he could give her something to love and care for, to keep her busy, he may eventually stop worrying about her leaving him. At least it was a start.

But Erik knew the one thing that would properly secure their marriage, the one thing he had never really thought about until he saw his Christine. Erik wanted a baby. He longed for a child to bond Christine and him together and to show the world that they were a married couple.

How beautiful their child would be, a mixture of his stunning wife and then him…

Erik stopped dead. He had never thought about the possibility of the child being like him rather than the beautiful mother.

Could Christine ever forgive him if he gave her a corpse for a son, or daughter? Could she love the child?

A war raged on in Erik's head for the rest of the day as he watched his Christine care for the bunny. She cared for it because it looked nice and felt nice. Would she care for their child too even if the child was not attractive like the bunny?

Christine looked up from her guest and beamed at Erik.

Erik couldn't help but smile back at her from across the table. Her happiness was contagious and he was immune to her.

"Thank you Erik for letting me keep him," she said softly. "I'll take good care of Charles."

Erik chuckled lightly. His wife had already named the creature. Now he knew she would not part with it.

"You are welcome my dear," he smiled.

Christine grinned and turned her attention back to her bunny. Charles was now wrapped up in soft blue blankets and Christine cradled him like a baby.

Erik watched on, captivated and yet still concerned about the possibility of their child, especially considering they could have already conceived.

He bit down on his misshapen lip and decided to accept whatever fate had for them. If their child was hideous like him they would have to suffer through it and Erik would make sure Christine behaved like a good mother.

It would work out fine, either way they would all be together.

But that wasn't Erik's only worry.

What if the child couldn't accept him?

Would it be fear or love they shared?

Erik pushed the thoughts from his head and stood to leave the table. Christine followed him loyally through to the living room where they sat by the fire for the rest of the day. To keep his mind off the subject Erik told her stories of his past and where he had travelled to and what he had seen. Christine was always amazed by Erik's stories, after all she had little experience of her own.

Although Christine had something to care for, her little Charles, and Erik was being wonderful with her she could not forget how scared she was when he had suddenly appeared to her. He had looked so angry, as if she had done something to make him very mad. But she had been right there behind the bushes the whole time trying to catch the little bunny.

"Erik?" Christine said suddenly. "Why were you so distressed earlier out in the garden?" she asked him carefully.

Erik's face paled and he avoided her eyes for a moment before returning with a calm gaze.

"I thought you had ran from me," he admitted quietly. "And I was angry."

Christine swallowed hard and bowed her head gently. She was beginning to forget she wasn't completely free.

"I took chase," Erik continued. "I was going to hunt you down like a wild animal and drag you back home. I'd punish you Christine, my love. Make you never want to leave again."

Christine's eyes widened fearfully and her heart began to bang against her chest wildly. The Opera Ghost had appeared again before her and he was just as possessive as ever.

"I won't ever leave," she whispered.

Erik's eyes flashed.

"What was that you said?" he asked her with intrigue.

Christine took a deep breath and repeated her vow to him.

"Erik, my husband. I won't ever leave you," she said. "I promise."

Erik smiled softly and took her hand into his, squeezing her lightly.

She had promised him eternity and Erik fully tended to make sure her promise was kept, be it by her own will or by force.

Promises are not meant to be broken, not promises to an Opera Ghost.


	8. Chapter 8

**A Phantom's Claim **

**Chapter Eight**

Over dinner the topic of conversation seemed to gravitate from music to the little rabbit in the cushioned basket in the corner of the room. Erik delighted in both conversations, finding it much easier to talk to his Christine than ever before. How he loved to listen to her, even if she was just talking to him. He hung on every soft accent and vowel that echoed from her pink lips. This was the voice he had fallen for and now he could possess it, he could possess her.

"I would like to engage you in singing lessons once more, my child," Erik told her softly. He lifted his glass of brandy and took a slow steady sip.

Christine watched with wide alert eyes, full of anticipation.

"Singing lessons?" she beamed.

Erik gave a slight nod and smiled gently. He sat his glass down on the table and looked into his wife's bright blue eyes. He was very pleased she was excited by the news.

"Why yes my dear. We wouldn't want to waste that voice now would we?" he said but did not mention that her voice would be only for him now. He didn't need to.

Christine smiled in agreement and reached for a piece of thickly cut bread. She happily tore it into two with her small pale hands and took a nibble from one piece before she froze. Erik watched her with keen interest, unable to tear his eyes away from his young bride. Her every slight movement absorbed him.

"What is it my love?" he enquired softly. "Is the bread alright? It is from the finest bakery in the village I have been told," Erik assured her with a smile. "Only the best, my Christine."

Christine blushed in reply and bit into the bread. But Erik was not satisfied with her answer. He leaned across the table, his eyes blazing into hers.

"What are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice.

Christine looked up and quickly swallowed before forcing a hurried smile. Sometimes Erik could look so menacing, even when he didn't mean to. It seemed the Opera Ghost within him was still striving to break free and Christine feared she may be the cause of his next outburst.

Christine opened her mouth to protest but she knew Erik would then only grow frustrated and take the truth from her. So she gave it willingly.

"I was thinking about the boy you have hired," she admitted quietly. "I have not seen him and yet he brings us food and whatever else you ask him to supply."

Erik studied his wife's face, wondering what she was planning. Was this an attempt to escape him or perfectly innocent?

"He is kept busy," Erik said safely.

Christine frowned deeply and looked down to her food. "Is he in the house now?" she asked very softly. She could tell her questioning had aroused Erik's possessiveness but she had to make sure the boy was alright.

"Perhaps," Erik murmured.

Christine sighed lightly and turned her attention back to her meal again. She dipped the bread in her soup and plunged into silence.

Erik watched her closely as she ate her meal, making Christine more and more uneasy as his gaze intensified. He always seemed to be watching her. When she woke his cool eyes were already open and on her, when she came down the stairs he was always there and waiting but then sometimes Christine just got that feeling he was watching her. Did the other mirrors have spy rooms for him to pry upon her from? Maybe she would have to smash them all too.

"He has a room in the basement," Erik announced quietly.

Christine's head swivelled up and a smile touched her soft lips.

"I give him the money for the carriage that I pay to come to the bottom of the woods each day and the money for the food. As well as that he is fed and given the room for his services," Erik explained to her calmly. He looked her dead in the eye. "Uncharacteristic for a demon isn't it?" he asked her quietly. "Were you expecting some tale of dread?"

Christine shook her head lightly and stared into her husband's eyes. He was a complicated man. She knew he had killed before, he had killed for her. He was not innocent at all yet there was compassion deep within him. It took something special to make this compassion show and yet it was still there, even if the world had shown no empathy to him.

"The boy is very shy," Erik added when a strange silence had fallen again. "He would not talk to you Christine, he rarely breathes a word to me."

Christine gently nodded and smiled with satisfaction. She continued to enjoy her meal and was pleased when Erik brought up the possibility of a singing lesson again. He promised her it would be very soon. It was the topic for the rest of the dinner and the boy was not brought up again.

Soon it was time to retire to the living room and as the sun began to fall and darkness consumed the woods around the house Christine awaited her husband to ask her to fulfil her wifely duties as he did every night without fail.

"Christine, my love," Erik said softly.

Christine was sat in the living room before the fireplace. She had curled herself up and was enjoying the wonderful warmth from the roaring fire as she read her book.

She looked up when Erik entered the room and smiled. She watched closely as he approached her with careful steps, each step gentle and slow as if he were approaching a frightened kitten. He knelt down next to her and placed a gentle hand upon her head, stroking his fingers through her long lush locks.

"I'm afraid I have some business to attend to tonight," he explained quietly.

Christine frowned unhappily and sat up from her comfortable position. Erik took her small pale hands in his and squeezed comfortingly.

"What is wrong?" his wife asked in a whisper. She gazed into his cloudy eyes and tried her best to see past his mask which hid Erik's true emotions. All she had to go on were his eyes and his mouth but Erik was very careful and was able to control both.

"Erik," Christine urged.

"Christine," Erik said in a low serious voice. "The boy I hired heard someone moving out in the woods today," he told her cautiously. "And so I am taking the necessary precautions."

Christine shied away from Erik. She knew what he was up to, that he was planting traps around the house. This also meant she would never be allowed out again.

"I will join you when I am finished with my work," Erik promised her and he rose to his feet. He looked down upon her one more time and he could tell she was not happy about what was going on. But Christine would have no choice in the matter. At the end of the day she was his wife and belonged to him. She had to obey.

Erik turned to leave but the soft voice of his Christine stopped him before he could reach the door. He glanced back at his dutiful wife and couldn't help but drink in her beauty.

"Yes, my dearest one?" he asked gently.

His eyes blazed into hers, making Christine anxious.

"Please," she murmured. "Be careful."

Erik grinned widely and gave her a slight nod before he left her alone in the house. This was the first time Christine had truly been alone for the entire week she had been under Erik's keep and curiosity began to stir in her mind.

Was the little boy in the basement still down there?

Christine slowly helped herself to her feet and in the glow of the fire she paced around the room. She quickly decided against the investigation, knowing if she was caught Erik would be displeased. And yet her inquisitiveness beckoned her from the room and into the dining room. She could see the little door that led down to the basement in the darkest corner of the room. It looked so forbidden.

She silently loomed towards the little door and was surprised at just how much she wanted to rip it open and reveal what was hidden underneath. But this need to know the mechanics behind the mystery was what got Christine into her situation. She had shattered the illusion by tearing away her Angel's mask, only to expose a monster, her husband. Now was she to reveal something else just as shocking?

Just then Christine heard a quiet rumble. She abruptly spun around just in time to see a little brown ball of fur bounce down from the basket on the chair and onto the floor. The little ball sat there, examining the room around him.

"Little Charles," Christine smiled warmly.

The little rabbit's nose twitched slightly and his eyes twinkled brightly. Christine's quest was automatically abandoned. How could she resist little Charles?

She approached him very slowly, each step careful and concise so she did not upset him. Then she scooped her guest into her arms and delighted in the softness of his warm fur. She rocked him very gently, humming softly.

Christine's attention belonged to Charles for the rest of the night and once he had fallen asleep in her arms she also found peace by the roaring fire. Perhaps if Charles had not stirred the night would have met a different end, a much darker one.

However Christine had a knack for discovering secrets, especially the dangerous ones. Soon she would uncover one Erik had been hiding since he had taken her to the cabin in the woods. Their period of stability was fast drawing to a close and from the moment Christine woke up her new life with Erik was under threat.

Erik's angry eyes blazed into hers and he reached out to grab her. Christine shied away, curling up into a protective ball. But she could never resist the Opera Ghost's grasp; Erik was far too strong.

She cried out in horror as he pried her up from the sofa and threw her ruthlessly over his shoulder. Christine found herself asking what she had done to deserve the Phantom's wrath and yet no answer came to light.

What was going on?

What was Erik going to do?

Suddenly the darkness of Erik's cape shrouded her. Christine could see nothing nor could she wriggle free from him. Her attempts were abolished before they could really begin and when a cold breeze whipped the cape away at last Christine's worries grew.

"Erik!" she cried. "Where are you taking me? What is going on?"

However Erik ignored her. His narrow eyes focused ahead and he swiftly made his way through the maze of trees.

From out of the dim light of the early morning hours a shadow emerged before then. Erik came to a swift stop, his heels digging deep into the dirt. He reached down, quickly revealing his sword.

The figure approached with rapid speed and all Christine could do was watch from Erik's shoulder.


	9. Chapter 9

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter Nine**

Erik's eyes flashed as they fell onto the figure ahead in the darkness. He had known that their home had been found, but had only just realised the identity of the trespasser. He ground his teeth together, clutching Christine tight as the shadow drew near. It stopped a few meters away, watching them cautiously.

"So this is how you treat her?" A familiar voice hissed. "Throw her over your shoulder like a sack and disappear into the dark, like the criminal you are?"

A wide grin crawled across Erik's face and at once he placed his wife onto her feet. He grabbed her hand, pulling her close, making sure her wedding ring was on show for the unwanted guest.

"Insolent boy, how dare you challenge me?" Erik snarled hatefully. "I should have known it was you I saw from my window, but I thought you would be wise enough not to follow the Opera Ghost. Perhaps you could have lived a full and happy life if you hadn't."

Raoul shifted uneasily but stood tall before them, taking a step forwards.

"I have come for Christine," he declared.

"Oh, have you now?" Erik laughed mockingly. The moon seemed to illuminate his mask.

He looked to his wife, drinking in her silence. She was submissive to him; she didn't even dare to try and pull away from his grasp. Christine was his.

"Then you have wasted your time and energy, boy," Erik sneered, noticing Raoul had brought a gun with him, which he was trying to hide behind his back. The warning he gave was cold, the chill increased by his glare. "I would not use that if I were you."

"And why is that?" Raoul hissed. "It's more than you deserve. You low life criminal!"

Christine looked to her husband, fearing he might lunge for Raoul, however all he did was laugh and tighten his grip around her, putting his arms around her waist so that she was now in front of him, almost like a shield.

"You would kill this sweet girl's husband?" He asked Raoul. "And leave her a widow, with child?"

Raoul's bright blue eyes widened to twice their size and his mouth seemed to drop open for a moment. He quickly regained his defensive stance and wore a look of disgust.

"You monster," he spat.

Erik shook his head slowly and again looked down upon his wife. How she trembled in his arms as they fought over her like a prize. But Erik had already won the game and now she was his, she was there with him and he would make sure the boy would not take her. The game was over.

"We are legally married," Erik informed Raoul. "And happily at that."

"No woman can be happy with a corpse as their husband!" Raoul yelled angrily. He strode towards them, aiming the gun at Erik's head. His finger brushed the trigger but he did not pull it, could not when he saw Christine's expression.

Her face was soaked with tears and her long golden brown hair clung to her pale, wet cheeks. She stared at Raoul, silent, but pleading with her eyes.

"Christine," Raoul whispered.

Erik smiled softly, drawing his bride against him, cradling her as he ran a hand through her long locks, combing back her stray hairs.

"You have lost, boy," Erik said quietly. "This child is mine, and her heart and soul belong to me and me alone."

Raoul cringed. He wanted more than anything to just close his eyes and shoot the Opera Ghost, but all he could do was stare at the woman between them.

"Christine," he murmured. "I can take you home."

"Foolish boy, I could have you for abduction," Erik snarled before Christine could reply. Instead she shrunk back into Erik's arms further.

"Please Christine," Raoul pleaded desperately. "Tell me what you want."

Christine glanced up, pained to see Raoul so distressed, and the gun did not help. She took a deep breath and pushed the words from her mouth, trying to keep them strong and steady.

"My husband," she blurted.

Raoul frowned deeply, his whole stance seemed to shrink and the hand holding the gun fell to his side.

"I want to stay here with my husband," she told him quietly. "I have made a vow and I will follow it through."

This news made Erik's gloating grin widen.

"There you have it, boy," he sniggered triumphantly. "The child wants her husband, her Angel."

"Angel!" Raoul laughed hysterically. "You are no Angel! You are a demon! A monster! A murderer! A rapist!"

Erik's eyes narrowed.

The atmosphere seemed to chill.

Christine trembled.

"A murderer, you say?" Erik chuckled darkly. He took a step forward, pushing Christine ahead of him, and Raoul, shaking, raised his gun.

Erik reached down, fingers closing around the hilt of the sword he carried in its harness.

He moved again, this time swiftly and the boy moved back, almost stumbling.

"Don't come any closer!" Raoul cried hoarsely. "Stop!"

But Erik did not stop. He advanced, using his Christine as his shield. He knew Raoul would not shoot; he couldn't without hitting his lover.

"A rapist," Erik spat.

Raoul quivered before the Opera Ghost's shadow, finding his gun was no use now Erik could easily wield Raoul's only weakness as he pleased.

"Now murderer I am, bit rapist I am not," Erik told him bluntly. He glanced down at Christine, wearing a strange smile. "Did you enjoy our love making Christine? In our marriage bed? On the floor? By the fire?"

Christine's face flushed bright red and Erik turned his attention back to Raoul. He managed a cruel chuckle.

"You should hear how she cries my name," he teased. "She cries my name, boy. She never resists her Angel, her husband."

"You are disgusting," Raoul growled. He looked to Christine, but she said nothing.

"You'll never have her, boy," Erik grinned. He brushed his hand down his wife's skirts and then up to the soft skin of her neck. "You'll never feel the softness of her skin," he went on happily. "Never savour the wetness between her cream legs."

Raoul closed his eyes; he knew Erik was speaking the truth.

"And you will never see how beautiful she is when she revels in ecstasy."

Christine looked down at her feet silently. Erik would be pleased by her submissiveness, but really she did not know what to say.

"All because the girl is mine," Erik mocked. "And not yours. I did not rape her, boy, she gave herself willingly." Erik paused, savouring Raoul's disgust. But as he took in that expression he silently moved forward, not speaking until his sword was drawn from Erik's hilt and it was too late.

"Raoul! No, Erik!" Christine screamed and tried to push him back, but Erik was too strong.

He sliced into Raoul's throat with the sharp, shining blade and drew blood. Red crimson tears burst out and a terrible gagging sound erupted from Raoul's cut throat.

"No!" Christine wept and Erik threw her to the side.

Raoul dropped to his knees, his gun falling uselessly by his side.

Erik smiled, kicking the weapon away and kneeling down beside him, his shirt covered in his rival's blood. He lifted his cape, shrouding both himself and Raoul from Christine's sight, and leaned down.

"She enjoyed every minute," Erik hissed into Raoul's ear.

He gurgled horribly in reply. His eyes were wide and his hands clutched his throat. But nothing could save him.

"You lose, boy."

Raoul's limp body fell to the side and in less than a minute his eyes were glazed over and his breathing had stopped.

The Vicomte was dead.

Wordlessly, Erik lifted onto his feet and gazed down at the body of his rival. He bowed his head in respect before turning to his wife. She sat under an old tree, cowered over like an injured animal, her dress stained with her lover's deep red blood. She stared up at him, her blue eyes wide and full of fresh tears which never seemed to run out.

Erik took a step towards her, his expression gentle but eyes stern. He knew this would displease her, but he would carry her back to the cabin regardless and she would remain as his dutiful wife.

"Christine," he said softly.

"Stop," Christine's trembling voice cried out.

He stopped a few feet away from her.

"My Angel," Erik cooed. "Come to me…"

He paused, staring at her in shock.

Slowly Christine raised her hand from her skirts, revealing what she was concealing. In her hands she grasped Raoul's gun and pointed it towards Erik's torso.

Her hands shook and she sobbed quietly but Erik still did not move.

Christine's finger stayed on the trigger and the world seemed to stand still.

"Shoot," Erik encouraged her in a gentle voice. "Shoot me, Christine, and be free. Have your revenge."

"J-justice," Christine choked out.

Erik smiled, lifting his hand to his mask and to Christine's surprise he removed it, revealing his corpse-like face.

She stared, not tearing her eyes from him.

"There is no justice in this world, my Christine," Erik sighed.

Christine let out a loud sob, her small pale hands tightening around the gun.

"Make your choice," Erik whispered. "My Angel."

Erik's life was in her hands. She could take it and be free, give Raoul and so many others justice. What would her God want her to do? What would her father tell her to do?

And with that Christine closed her eyes and swiftly made her choice.


	10. Chapter 10

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter Ten**

The gun shot was loud. It echoed through the silent forest, with a resonating bang. Everything seemed to freeze then, no one dared to move. It was as if time stood still.

Christine's wide blue eyes were glazed with hot tears, and her cold, pale face grew whiter still. She stared at the massacre before her, her eyes stuck on the gruesome face of the man, the monster, who had spilt the blood.

Erik returned her gaze, but unlike hers, he was strong and arrogant. Yet what Christine missed was that Erik trembled just as much as she did, only he could control it a lot better.

Their eyes were locked as Christine's small, childlike hands dropped the dangerous weapon. It fell onto the forest floor with a muffled thud. Its shiny, black exterior stood out amongst the leaves and dirt, even in the lingering darkness.

"I-I," Christine stuttered, breaking the silence.

She doubled over, covering her face with her hands, and she cried into them, sobbing loud and hard. What had she done?

Erik was silent but Christine could feel his eyes burning into her, watching inquisitively.

"I-I…couldn't," Christine whispered again, in disbelief.

She felt more lost and helpless than ever before. She knew she could not shoot him, and that sudden smile Erik wore told her he had known this all along. Despite how she hated him for what he had done, she was his and she knew it.

Her soul belonged to him.

Christine had watched with wide eyes as bullet she shot zipped past Erik, planting itself in a nearby tree. Its sap began to ooze out, coating the tree's bark. But Erik was unharmed.

"I couldn't do it!" Christine wailed in distress. "I am as guilty as you are."

She reached out with a trembling hand, slowly reaching for the gun again. If Christine could not take his life, she would take her own. Then in her eyes justice would be done.

Erik swiftly stalked forward, kicking the gun out of her reach. Before Christine could react, Erik removed his cape and threw it over her. She let out a startled cry, as she writhed wildly, but her attempt to escape her husband was futile, and easily dashed.

Erik gathered her failing limbs together, using his cape as his net. He threw her effortlessly over his shoulder once again and carried her back to the cabin and by the time Erik reached the bedroom Christine had grown still. She didn't want to waste her energy; she would need it later.

Gently, Erik placed her down onto the bed, where she curled up into a quivering ball and turned away from him. She couldn't bear to look at him.

He watched her carefully, still without any expression in his unmasked face. He was silent as listened to her choke and wheeze. Finally he gave a loud sigh.

"Breathe," he ordered gently. "Christine, breathe deeply."

Christine's wet blue eyes flickered open, looking up at Erik in surprise; she did not expect to hear his voice. But she did as she was told. She knew if she did not calm down soon, she may never catch her breath again, and join her lover.

Erik smiled, satisfied as her breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Stay here and rest, my child," he said softly.

Christine watched him from the bed, still trembling, but feeling improved. She could breathe now and her heart had calmed into a gentle drumming. Yet she could still feel her hands grasping the gun, she could still see the blood of her lover, drenching the leaves of the dark forest. Even in the darkness his blood seemed to glisten in the moonlight.

She would never forget.

She couldn't forget.

Erik pulled the covers carefully over Christine and gently tucked her in, placing a light kiss upon her forehead. Christine wondered if he could feel her shaking.

"I will be right back after I have dealt with, some business," he said vaguely. But Christine knew he was going to clean up his mess, his murder.

Before Erik left her alone, he paused, giving her a strange look Christine was all too familiar with. A look of longing, of blatant lust. But Erik did nothing more than look. Soon he had disappeared from her sight and all Christine could do was listen as the door was locked behind him with a quick click.

Christine's eyes widened, for a moment her heart seemed to stop. All the trust, all the love between them was forsworn. She was married to a madman, a murderer. Yet, she couldn't do it, even if she knew what Erik was going to do to Raoul, she could not do it.

She was just as guilty as him.

She turned over and closed her eyes tight. Erik would be back soon, with blood on his hands. He would want to claim her as he did any other night, and as her husband he would have every right to. She was his, legally and in the eyes of God.

She could not refuse him, even after everything he had done. He was her husband, and this sickened Christine to her core.

Suddenly the fairy-tale she had built around herself had shattered. All illusions of Erik being her loving prince were destroyed. Christine knew he could never change; he would always be the wrathful, vengeful Opera Ghost, and he would never let her go, not willingly.

Christine decided then, for the sake of herself and her immortal soul, she had to leave him.

A loud bang jerked Christine from her sleep. She jolted up, looking around the room frantically, but no one was there.

Morning was breaking and the gentle light was peeking through the slit in the curtains. But where was Erik?

Christine carefully climbed down from the bed and silently shuffled her way to the door, to discover it was still locked. She frowned deeply, feeling like a prisoner once again.

Suddenly the door clicked open, and before Christine could move backwards, Erik appeared. He towered above her like a tall, looming shadow.

A chill ran through Christine's frail body, causing her to shiver. She jumped backwards, almost falling over her own feet.

Erik moved swiftly, catching her in his arms. He led her to the bed and gently encouraged her to sit down.

"What was that noise?" Christine demanded under her breath.

Erik's face visibly paled.

"Were you not sleeping, my dear?" he asked casually. "Perhaps you dreamt it."

Christine moved to her right slowly. Erik angled himself to face her, his narrowed eyes seeking hers. He gazed into her blue pools deeply, as if trying to draw her into a trance.

"I thought we could start our lessons today," he told her with a forced smile. "After breakfast we can start straight away with a new aria."

Christine was naïve, after all, she has followed Erik down into his domain blindly and let herself succumb to the Opera Ghost's spell. But Christine was not stupid. She could see Erik was hiding something.

"What was the noise, Erik?" she said, louder this time.

Erik's eyes burned feverishly, daring her to try anything more.

"_My dear_," he began, his golden tones laced with contempt. "Breakfast is on the table, _now_."

He moved away from the door, giving Christine her opportunity. She was swift and dashed past him, quickly making her way down the hall, then stairs.

Erik stood by the bedroom door still, watching her with a smirk, but Christine was too busy running to see.

Christine passed the dining room, where the food was ready on the table. She could hear Erik making his way down the stairs, and panic rung through her. She ran as fast as she could manage, bolting for the front door, holding her heavy skirts up so she couldn't trip.

Her pale hands grasped the handle of the front door and she twisted it frantically, with no success.

The door was locked.

Erik appeared behind her, and with all the power and malice of the Opera Ghost he spoke directly into her ear. "You are very predictable, my Christine," he almost purred, his voice was twisted with a sick sort of amusement.

Christine cringed and tried to pull away, but Erik was fast. He lunged forward, throwing his arms around her waist, and tightened.

Christine yelped as she was pulled back into him, but as much as she tried to escape she couldn't fight Erik.

"Come now, my darling wife!" Erik laughed madly.

He moved forward towards the window by the door, which overlooked the porch outside. "Come and see what your curiosity has led you to!"

Erik stood her in front of the window, holding her tight as she looked out at the scene. Christine could tell he revelled in her reaction, savouring the small gasp she took as her eyes grew wide. Suddenly her fragile body became limp in his arms and Christine's world fell dark.

Erik hadn't expected Christine to faint when she saw the two full, bloody sacks outside on the porch. One was big, the other was small.

Erik had anticipated a struggle and tears, cries of hate and pleas for help. But instead the house was filled with an eerie silence, as Erik carried Christine to the bedroom and lay her quaking body out on the bed before him.

"Now there is no one to interfere," Erik growled to his sleeping wife. He stared down at her pale face, watching her closed eyes for any movement. "We're all alone now, Christine. How does that feel? To be abandoned by the world, by your God? And left at the mercy your husband? The bloodthirsty, Opera Ghost?"

But Christine was silent.

Erik's frustrations slowly grew with each soundless second. He wanted her to make noise, to fill the house with her cries. He wanted to shout! He needed to show her that she had to obey him, that she belonged to him. But without her awake to aggravate him, all Erik could do was ramble to himself.

"Even if you could scream, no one would hear you," he hissed into her ear.

His eyes flashed as her eyelids flickered slightly.

"Ah, my Christine," he smirked. "Come back to me, my dear. Come and see the mess, my child, which you have gotten yourself into!"

Christine groaned quietly.

"Christine," Erik cooed. A wicked grain crawled across his face as he leaned over her, his forehead touching hers.

Christine woke with a fright and tried to push him away. But Erik moved swiftly, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed, using his own body to straddle her.

"Christine, my love," Erik chuckled. "It seems you neglected your wifely duties last night."

"Get off of me!" Christine screamed hatefully. "You murderer! You killed that child! That poor boy!"

Erik's eyes were full of intent as she struggled below him, forever lashing out and squirming, but never getting anywhere. Christine's scuffle grew when he leant down and stole a rough kiss from her quivering lips.

"Yes Christine," Erik admitted bluntly. He looked her in the eye, smiling as tears began to roll down her cheeks. Christine couldn't hold them back anymore.

"I shot the boy while he slept in his bed. I killed the child in cold blood," her husband said as he grinned down at her.

Christine sobbed loudly, turning her face away from him. She closed her eyes tight, wishing she had found the courage earlier to shoot him. Now the boy's blood was on her hands too.

"And now, I'll have you, my Christine," Erik hissed. "I'll make love to you with blood on my hands!"

"No!" she refused. But Erik did not listen to her pleas.

He quickly shuffled down her body, pressing himself onto Christine's legs. She tried to kick out but Erik held her in place while he fulfilled his urge.

Christine watched in horror as Erik grabbed her skirts and threw them up over her waist. Within seconds Erik had grabbed her pantaloons and was sliding them eagerly down her long slender legs. Christine looked up, watching his face as she surrendered to his desire. He wore a wide ravenous grin on his bare face, showing the true extent of his madness.

He looked uglier than ever before.

The husband she had grown to love was gone.

Erik left her skirts the way there were, not caring at all if Christine was uncomfortable or how she looked. He only wanted one thing and Christine knew that he would take it willingly or not.

Erik moved onto himself, quickly working away at his leather belt before stripping off his trousers and undergarments. All he was left with was the blood-stained white shirt that had once been so pristine and elegant.

He laid on top of her, pressing his warm, hard flesh against hers. Then Christine could feel his swollen, throbbing manhood pressing against her. She felt him push himself toward her, teasing her wetness.

"You may hate me, for what I have done," Erik growled.

His eyes blazed into hers, stealing her breath. Christine couldn't move.

"But you still want me," Erik mocked. "You're still soaking wet for your husband."

"N-no," Christine whined.

"That's it Christine, be true to your character, my dear," Erik laughed madly. "Cry and beg for mercy, when really you enjoy every moment of it."

"Erik, this isn't right," Christine protested softly. "Please, not now."

Erik paused and for a moment Christine's hopes rose. However with one thrust all hope drained from Christine's tear stained face.

Erik dove into her without warning. He began to move fast, seeking his own release selfishly. This was not what Christine was accustomed to, and she didn't like it. She cried out in distress, in pain, but Erik continued with loud groans echoing from his lips.

Christine tried to struggle, tried to slip out from under him, but her movements only made things worse and a sudden pain jolted through her lower abdomen.

"Please!" She cried desperately. "It hurts!"

Erik grunted in reply.

Tears streamed down Christine's face and she closed her eyes tight. She wished it would all be over, prayed that he would see good and stop. But Christine's cries went unheard by her God, for Erik did not stop until he at last cried out and his body shuddered with joy, falling stiffly onto Christine.

It was over.

As Erik rolled to the side, Christine was free. She let out a quiet sob, her hands moved down to her stomach, clutching where the pain throbbed deep within her.

She had been raped by her own husband, raped by the Opera Ghost.

Christine lay still, feeling sore and violated. It wasn't until Erik stirred again she began to feel fear again.

"No," she whimpered, closing her legs tightly together. "Please, no more," she begged with a throaty cry.

Christine watched helplessly as Erik's cold eyes skimmed down her body, falling onto her closed legs. But that was when his look changed completely. The frost melted away, replaced by warm tears, which seemed to come as abruptly as Erik's rage.

"Oh," he murmured softly. "Oh my Christine,"

Erik moved towards her, but Christine flinched, covering her face. She could not see the look Erik gave her. He frowned deeply, shaking his head lightly, but Christine was too busy sobbing silent tears to care for Erik's sudden softness.

He collected her in his arms, cradling her there on the bed. Christine didn't dare to move or reject his touch. All she could think of was the pain, emotional and physical.

Was this what her life was to be? Would she live under the shadow of Erik, fearing her husband?

As he embraced her Erik sang a soft familiar song into her ear, trying to soothe her. Christine listened, keeping her eyes shut as he gently rocked her. She began to feel tired and was slowly drifting away from the cold world she knew, until Erik's soft words brought her back again.

"You won't run from me again, my Angel," he purred, his golden tones sweetly menacing. "You are mine, till death do we part."

Christine's eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him, seeing the tell-tale signs of tears on Erik's face.

Their eyes locked, but Christine's gaze was no longer filled with the pain she felt, but the hate she wielded like a blade.

"I would happily welcome death, rather than _your _touch." She whispered, surprising her husband.

She met his gaze still, watching with satisfaction as Erik became speechless. He looked down upon her, his mouth dangling open slightly. He was shocked.

But the Opera Ghost quickly composed himself and managed a dark smile.

"You longed for my touch before, my darling," he said in a low voice. "And you'll yearn for it again."

Christine turned away, the thoughts of Raoul and the boy flooded into her head, bringing tears forth once more. Erik was wrong, she thought to herself firmly. After what he had done, she would never love him, never hunger after his affection. She loathed him and would never again take pleasure from his touch.

But Erik was determined to disprove her…


	11. Chapter 11

**A Phantom's Claim**

**Chapter Eleven**

Christine stared out onto the porch, watching sullenly as Erik placed the smallest sack into a shallow, freshly dug grave. A shudder raked up Christine's spine, and momentarily she forgot about the hot tears spilling down her pale face.

All illusions she had built around her were shattered. All hopes of happiness with Erik she had ever held were stolen from her. The fairy-tale crashed around her, coming down hard. Now Christine saw only darkness surrounding her, shrouding her in every direction. There was no slither of light at the end of the dark void. All dreams of love had died.

When Erik returned from the burial, Christine was sat on the plush pink chair by the fire. Charles was snuggled in her lap and snoozing peacefully, blissfully unaware of the discord in the home.

Christine looked up, her stroking hand pausing as Erik approached. He seemed to be followed by coldness; the little, light hairs on Christine's arms began to prickle upwards. She could feel Erik's icy eyes upon her, watching with intent. Christine tried to avoid his gaze; however Erik was soon knelt down before her.

His cold eyes seemed to glow as they were frozen on hers. Then a small, wicked smile curved his lips.

"There should be no further interruptions, my Christine," he said in a low voice. "Now we may enjoy married life together, in peace."

Christine bit down on her bottom lip, trying to restrain herself. Images of what Erik had done flashed through her mind, making the face before her more distorted than ever.

"Now," Erik smiled strangely.

His eyes fell upon Charles, making Christine squirm uncomfortably. She placed her hands over him, holding him tightly. A wide grin crawled across Erik's face and he reached out, trying to take him from her. But Christine protested.

"No," she pleaded desperately. "Please Erik, don't take him from me."

Erik hesitated, but then set out to take Charles again, this time succeeding. Christine quickly got to her feet and for a moment she towered over Erik, firmly trying to fight for her only comfort and friend.

However when Erik stood, it was he who loomed above her, just as dark and intimidating as ever. He held Charles in his pale hands, stroking him attentively with his long bony fingers.

"He seems to be on the mend, my dear," he spoke down to her.

Christine tried to snatch him back, but Erik moved away, turning his back on his wife. He faced the fire.

"Please Erik, don't do this!" Christine cried.

He stepped towards the fire, watching the flames as they rose and fell before him. Christine could see dark ideas slowly beginning to conjure themselves in Erik's mind.

Suddenly Christine placed her small hand on his shoulder, dragging him from his thoughts. Erik turned to face her and seeing her reaction he handed Charles back to her. Christine looked away, wondering how different she looked to the innocent, happy chorus girl, that had never known the touch of her Angel.

Christine lifted Charles to her face, gently kissing him between his long, slim ears. Relief swept through her, making her forget Erik was there for a moment.

"Christine," Erik whispered.

He watched her closely, almost looking hurt as she turned away from him. Christine listened as Erik fell onto the chair. But she did not stay long. She scuttled up the stairs, leaving Erik with his thoughts.

She did not want to be anywhere near him, she would even give up the warmth of the fire to escape his company, and it was all Erik's fault.

Christine made a small nest out of pillows and scarves on the wooden rocker in her bedroom. She gently placed the sleeping Charles inside and managed a small smile. Looking down on him, she wondered if little Charles would now be her only companion, the only thing to keep her sane. But at the same time Christine knew that not even Charles was safe from Erik's temper. He was something Erik could use against her, another tool to manipulate her with. Frowning, Christine realised she would have to give him up as soon as Charles was strong enough; the cruel hand of nature would be far gentler than the wrath of the Opera Ghost.

Just then, there was a light knock on the door.

Christine spun around, her eyes wide with fright. But they soon narrowed, filling with a mixture of hate and despair.

Erik smiled softly, swiftly approaching her. He caught her arms in his, pulling her over to the bed. She cried and screamed in protest, but Erik would not give in. Christine knew he was determined to see his desires come to life.

"Erik, please!" Christine begged.

He lifted her onto the bed and pushed her backward slightly, holding her there tightly. With strong hands Erik pushed her down and kept her there, pushing against her chest. Christine writhed and kicked out, but Erik already had her pantaloons around her ankles.

Quickly, he pushed her skirts up around her waist and knelt down between her bare legs. Before Christine could react, he placed a gentle kiss upon her more sensitive spot, trailing his hot, wet tongue up and down her womanhood.

Christine's struggle dwindled for a moment, adding to Erik's determination. With vigour, he focused upon her most vulnerable spot, the one that made her body jolt then stiffen. She knew she was being manipulated but at the same time Christine could feel her cheeks beginning to redden and hear her burning blood thudding in her ears. It felt sensational.

She let out a frustrated cry, loving and yet loathing how spectacular Erik felt on her.

Her pain had ebbed away completely, leaving Christine to savour the unearthly delights only Erik could give her.

"Erik stop!" She screamed suddenly, surprising herself.

Erik pulled back, concern flashing across his face.

Christine reached down, pulling her pantaloons up. She pushed her skirts down, quickly climbing onto her feet. Her knees trembled below, but she did not let it stop her.

Erik stared up at her. Christine could see he was confused and yet surprised that she was refusing his touch. He reached out for her, attempting to gently convince her to accept. But Christine moved away, leaving Erik alone upon his knees.

She would not be manipulated by him; it made her sick to know those pale hands were laden with innocent blood.

Christine sat by her dressing table, watching him approach her in the mirror. Erik then grabbed his mask from the dressing table and slipped it back on. He stared down at her, looking lost.

Christine took deep breaths, her chest rose and fell. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the words slip from her quivering lips.

"You _raped_ me, Erik," she told him, her voice no louder than a whisper.

Erik winced.

Christine turned around in her chair, facing him. She tried to be strong, but the urge to cry and run was becoming stronger. She resisted.

Christine was no longer a child.

"You raped me Erik!" Christine hissed. "And you hurt me doing it."

Erik looked away, tears shimmering in his eyes.

"Yes," he murmured. "I did, my Christine."

Christine swallowed heavily and turned away from him. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back her own tears.

"I don't want you to touch me again," Christine whispered. "I am obligated to be your wife, and I will stay as such." She paused, cringing at the thought. "But I will not let you touch me, Erik."

"I swear in time you will find it in your heart to forgive me," Erik said calmly.

Christine went to interject, but Erik dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She fell silent, biting her tongue when she just wanted to scream at him.

"And you will love me again," he promised.

"I never loved you," Christine spat out.

Erik paused, obviously thrown back, but he soon gathered his thoughts, becoming cool and calculated like the Opera Ghost he was.

"I do not like it when you lie to me, Christine," he said. "I know you loved me; I felt your want, your need."

Christine looked away, shaking her head lightly.

"I will show you how to love me again, Christine. I will make you love me!" Erik swore to her.

Christine glanced over her shoulder, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "You can't _make_ someone love you, Erik. Not even one of your tricks could make me love you, not even your voice."

Erik bowed his head, sucking in a deep breath. He smiled strangely and gave a quick, decisive nod.

"You will see in time…" He murmured.

Christine turned around to ask what he meant, but when she did Erik was gone. The door softly closed behind him, leaving Christine alone to ponder what Erik was plotting. She looked to Charles and sighed. She felt like she was trapped in a labyrinth, were every turn looked the same, and now she was back to the very beginning of Erik's maze.

Would she ever be free from him?


End file.
